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MODERN 
POETRY 



—BY- 
FRED D. McMILLEN 




PIONEER PRINTERS 
Minneapolia, Minn. 



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FRED D. McMILLEN 
Minneapolis, Minn. 



and other poems 
By 



FRED D. McMILLEN, 

Minneapolis, 

Minn. 




Copyrighted, 1919, by F. D. McMillan 
Minneapolis, Minn. 



Price 50 Cents Per Copy. 



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PRELUDE. 



Who can compute the span of life. 
Where armies meet in mortal strife? 
Ah, none may know what hour will grace 
The fatal field his resting place. 

Hostility, at war's dark brink. 
Should pause a moment there to think; 
To count the misery and the cost 
What tho the cause is won or lost. 

Reflection has, with sober thought, 
The noble lesson often taught 
That honor's slight or injured pride 
Will not excuse a homicide. 

The greater pleasure often know; 
That friends are made of former foe 
And wrongs endured and then forgiven 
Receive the rich reward of Heaven. 



NOV -4 1919 
g)ClA534603 



THE BATTLE OF GETTYSBURG 



2nd Edition. 



The arm of commander Lee, 

In Eighteen hundred sixty-three 

Its martial powers to demonstrate 

Sought Washington's most Westward gate; 

The Northern army home to drive, 

With thousand soldiers seventy-five 

Faithful followers every one. 

From fields their master hand had won. 

This army that so lately lay, 

In trenches with its foe at bay, 

Where river's course and thickets might 

Protection lend in case of flight; 

Emboldened by its late success 

With ease departs from its recess 

By column, cavalry and train 

As if to split the North in twain. 

As monarch doth explore his land, 
In which no foemen dare to stand. 
It wanders forth both free and far 
Directed by the Northern Star. 
His cavalry to right is cast. 
And mountain base it quickly passed; 
It left South Mountain's modest crest 
And towering spires in distant West. 



The infantry, four columns strong. 
In broken cadence walked along: 
The village streets and road-way wide 
A passage freely did provide. 
And as their onward course persue 
Each town and village they pass through 
With rament, food and money pay 
The tribute ordered on the way. 

Around the western slope they wind 
Until the Northern passage find; 
Emerging from the mountain brake 
A northward course again they take. 
Commander Lee, his glances cast 
On Gettysburg so nearly passed 
And hasty lines he then threw out 
"To see what Meade might be about." 

No thought had Lee that foemen then 

Exceeded a few thousand men; 

For Stuart's cavalry could roam 

The eastern plains from w^hence they come. 

And since his couriers had brought 

No sign, no message or a thought 

Their absence did to him declare 

No Federal army could be there. 

But cavalry at times will stray 
Too far beyond the chosen way. 
And as its wide detour it took 
In eastern hillocks failed to look 
Where martial force of Northern pride 
Passed northw^ard near the mountain side. 
Its lines expanding could defy 
A messenger to pass them by. 



When warning had been sounded forth 
That Lee's Command was marching North 
The Union forces led by Meade 
Responded quickly and agreed 
To stop the move, tho woe betide; 
And columns marched by rapid stride 
For thirty miles to reach the line 
Before Lee's army could combine. 

The Northern men, with guns and all. 
Were rushed to meet their country's call; 
To reach the front with utmost speed 
Were ordered by Commander Meade. 
The midnight march, the season hot, 
The late defeat, the men forgot. 
The single phrase bore every tongue 
"We'll stop Lee's march on Washington." 

No swamps or tangled forests there. 
The vale was clear, the hills were bare, 
And army movements could be seen 
Obstructed by no cloud or screen. 
The Southern army from the West 
Inspecting heights to serve it best. 
The Seminary ridge it chose 
From which to overcome its foes. 

Reynolds cavalry platoon. 
Was on this ridge the last of June; 
But the next day the Southern fire 
Compelled his soldiers to retire; 
For none but foremost outward guard 
Was then in place attacks to ward 
And when they faced the Southern gun 
Too few they were, by two to one. 



—7- 



The Northern army's high command 
At length provided for a stand 
Upon the Cemetery ridge 
Just South and East of the Village. . 
They sought at first this ridge to gain 
And their position there maintain 
Against attacks that Lee might lend 
Upon their lines to force a rend. 

The Village then had ridges two, 
One for the Gray, and one for the Blue 
As Goddess of the Justice stands 
With equal gifts within her hands. 
Commander Lee's suspicion viewed 
The ridge on w^hich his f oemen stood ; 
And he, to crown his late success. 
Believed this ridge he should possess. 

Longstreet*s Southern flag then flew 
About the field where peaches grew. 
And the farm house and wheatfield fine 
Were on his foremost battle line. 
While East and South from their repose 
The modest heights of Round Top rose; 
The Devils Den between remained 
Unsought by North, by South unclaimed. 

The Second of July, till four. 
In peace and calm was passing o'er. 
The battle plans, no doubt, were made 
To wait for re-enforcements' aid. 
But Sickles with impatient care 
Observed the force of Longstreet there, 
And forward at "his throat he sprung" 
And then the conflict had begun. 



And by the signal's furious rage 
The army's right and left engage 
In deadly conflict's awful strife. 
With most appalling loss of life. 
The Union right could not withstand 
The greater weight of Ewell's command 
And must release, against its will. 
Its favorite grip on Gulp's small hill. 

The yellow^ field of ripening grain 
Bore many martyr's life blood stain. 
The matron of the farmhouse small 
Was killed by a stray musket ball. 
While with her tender heated care 
A lunch for soldiers did prepare. 
Pity the innocent bereft 
When Longstreet struck the Union left. 

About that rough and rocky glen, 
For ages known as Devil's Den, 
They isolated combats fought, 
As if by fiends incarnate taught. 
In rocky cliff or lonely brake 
The men w^ould sometimes refuge take; 
And the same bowlder did divide 
The foemen crouched on either side. 



The deadly conflict could not last 
But Sickles' grip held Longstreet fast; 
His chosen ground refused to yield. 
About and South of the wheat field. 
Commanders used their utmost power. 
For well they knew a critical hour 
The Union left rolled back to right 
Would put the entire army to flight. 

—9— 



Longstreet's troops and Sickles' men 

Staggered back and forth again, 

And neither an advantage gained 

Reward for losses they sustained, 

Until the hour of closing day 

When Sickles' men, at last gave way, 

Were backward borne in haste at length 

By Longstreet's power and massive strength. 

As Bonaparte at Waterloo, 

In saddle rose, the foe to view 

In full retreat, and deemed before 

The close of day the battle's o'er. 

So Longstreet blushed with joy to see 

The Union left before him flee; 

And forward pressed the foe's retreat. 

He deemed commencing its defeat. 

Hancock viewed with grave concern 
His faithful troops to rear return ; 
The corps retreating men to stop 
He rode in haste towards Round Top. 
The General's mind perceived by glance 
The Southern army's quick advance; 
The Southern ridge about to gain 
And great advantage thus attain. 

He saw^ his re-enforcements move, 
The rapid pace of man to prove; 
The ridge to reach, the lines to form. 
To face and stop the Southern storm; 
But tho his men much faster came, 
The distance was too great to gain; 
And as the task and time combined 
Five minutes were his men behind. 



-10— 



Was it by chance or man designed, 
That General Hancock there should find 
A group of men, by Destiny lent — 
The First Minnesota Regiment? 
Detached, a minor task to fill 
Or in reserve upon the hill; 
The numbers were, alas, too few, 
Only two hundred sixty-two. 

To this command, in haste he rode 
Where by its standard firmly stood. 
To Colonel Colwell, at its head, 
"Charge those lines" the General said. 
The men all knew the reason why. 
They saw their comrades by them fly 
All stained with blood, and dark with dust. 
In flight from Longstreet's awful thrust. 

As mother bear defends her young 
So forward every soldier sprung; 
His natural life he' held at naught 
While Washington's defense he fought. 
Along the slope had charge begun — 
No man could pause to fire a gun. 
But at the foemen every one. 
As swift as armed men could run. 

A winding brook, though summer dried, 
Contending armies would divide 
And rushing lines of Southern men 
Would pause to cross and form again. 
Paused, to wonder and suppress 
The strange emotions they confess 
Deeming the forms they see ahead 
Avenging spirits of the dead. 

—11— 



As dreamers startled and amazed 
They steadily on the column gazed, 
Discerning if the gleaming steel 
Was spirit borne or deadly real : 
For mortal forms could hardly hold 
A line of steel so firm and bold 
And charge with such cadence along 
Upon an army half so strong. 

Two moments passed — the trance was broke 
Their lines to fire with flame and smoke 
And pours a seeming hail of lead 
Upon the charging column's head, 
Their ranks were torn, the air was rent, 
The column's strength w^as nearly spent. 
But still they forward press their way 
**To do or die" is all they say. 

Shelter in the friendly brook 
The remnants of the column took 
As re-enforcements all the while 
Were something more than half a mile. 
And all the Southern shot and shell 
Which on that little band that fell 
Broke not its steady force until 
The re-enforcements gained the hill. 

Longstreet then by retrograde 

Appealed for help by cannonade 

Before his infantry could face 

The Federal left entrenched in place. 

The silent shades of gathering night 

Forbade renewal of the fight. 

And Union troops sank down to rest 

Upon the ridge and Round-tops crest. 



—12- 



It may be said it saved the day 
As Southern right it held at bay 
Until fresh troops could be supplied 
To fill the place of those who died. 
The silent brook also may claim 
The honor in its humble name 
Of aiding victors of the day — 
The North to shield; the South delay. 

The dying and the wounded all 
Compose the losses that befall. 
No missing from the ranks were found. 
But prostrate forms upon the ground. 
Had silent reaper claimed the most 
When muster call revealed their loss; 
But forty-seven men remained 
In line to see success attained. 

Who could have guessed a little rill 
Could lend its aid for good or ill, 
As though its modest banks command 
A mighty host to pause and stand, 
Until the little band could hear 
The warning sound of danger near 
And answer forth by charge and cheer 
That chilled the Southern host with fear. 

Engross each name on plates of gold 
The letters make both plain and bold, 
Repeat the story I relate 
Of how the men of North Star State 
By charge so fierce, so strange to tell 
Cast on the Host an awe struck spell 
And baffled back their foremost line 
To save five minutes precious time. 



—13- 



What if Stonewall Jackson then, 

In fiery charge had led his men! 

No regiment and gentle rill 

Broke Jackson's charge at Chancellorsville. 

But General Jackson then was dead; 

Upon that fatal field had bled — 

Was from his legion's bosom torn 

His spirit was above them borne. 

The glowing rays of morning light 
Revealed the Struggling Union right 
Which then regained, at highest cost, 
The favorite hill, so lately lost. 
Commander Lee had dearly proved 
The Union left could not be moved; 
The Union right had shown its skill 
To take a lost position at will. 

One course remained, he' Id risk it all, 
On this success must stand or fall. 
To force a place for him to enter 
He' Id hurl his army at the center. 
But ere this grand assault would make 
Artillery in place would take 
Its mighty power to utilize 
The Union lines to pulverize. 

The Union army stood the shock 
Returning shell and cannon shot. 
Three hundred guns that fateful day, 
In deadly duel fought their way. 
The Southern concentrated fire. 
On Union center spent its ire; 
Which warning gave to it prepare 
For infantry to strike it there. 



■14- 



General Hunt soon deemed it best 

To let his cannon have a rest; 

The rapid fire and scorching sun 

Was heating every Federal gun. 

Imagination may surmise 

That Meade provided a surprise, 

For Lee's command that soon would make 

Its final attack the line to brake. 

When Southern Generals heard no more 
The Northern cannon's awful roar, 
The pleasant thought at first enjoyed 
That Northern guns had been destroyed. 
The Union center, General Lee, 
On yonder ridge could plainly see 
And bade Longstreet, without delay. 
Prepare to sweep the lines away. 

(Pickett's Charge) 

Lee's intentions were to try 

The Union lines in twain to pry 

And then each wing to crush at length 

Directed by his master strength. 

Tho conscious that disaster still. 

Might greet his lines upon the hill, 

Pickett forward moved with pride 

His twenty thousand men to guide. 

As his divisions power and grace 
Was sweeping into danger's face. 
Like thunder's av/ful shock and roar 
That breaks the calm that was before. 
The Union lines again awoke. 
To shake the earth, by ponderous stroke; 
With blazing mouth and sulphureous breath 
Defiance poured, with tolls of death. 



-15— 



Onward they move, all undismayed, 
For Pickett's men were not afraid. 
Though shrapnel shell and solid shot 
Enfiled their lines, they falter not. 
They close their ranks, they sweep along 
At times they air their Southern song; 
They hold their lines, they give their yell 
Tho men, by thousands forward fell. 

The smoke of battle soon conceiled. 
The struggle on the fighting field. 
Where musket fire and cannon blast, 
A shroud upon the contest cast. 
The Union lines at first gave way. 
Before the gallant Pickett's sway. 
Who o'er the foremost rampart hoists, 
The banner of the Southern Host. 



The tiger ere his leap he takes, 

A backward crouch he always makes. 

The surer footing to secure. 

The greater struggle to endure; 

And so the Northern troops recoil 

Before the Southern savage toil 

And then wheel forward at command 

And meet their foemen hand to hand. 



As raging billows rear and roar. 
And dash upon a rock bound shore 
Only to feed the spray and foam 
And backward roll with dying moan. 
So Pickett's men with mighty shock 
With vengence hurled upon the rock. 
All shattered and in dire defeat 
They falter, sheer and then retreat. 



-16— 



The Southern banner backward falls 
All torn to shreds by musket balls 
And Pickett's faithful troops, in vain, 
Attempt to raise their flag again. 
The glasses of Commander Lee 
His struggling columns fail to see; 
But when the battle smoke has cleared 
The Southern line had disappeared. 

The General slightly bowed his head 
His steady eyes were turned red 
And emblems of approaching rain 
Upon his cheek produced a stain. 
For the commander loved his men 
And was in turn beloved by them; 
By nature polished and refined — 
The tender hearted noble kind. 



Of all the Southern choice array 
Who made that charge that fatal day — 
Of Pickett's twenty thousand men 
But few returned to ranks again. 
Strew^n about the vale below^ 
With many captured by their foe 
A few disperse, a few retreat. 
But all admit a dire defeat. 



So man may strive, with every might. 
His foe to place in vanquished flight 
But hands of Destiny divine 
The threads of victory may entwine. 
The shattered hosts again repair 
Within their ramparts kindly care 
ELxhausted and too worn to go 
Again to face their Federal foe. 

—17— 



The Southern Generals consult 
Amid the storm and the tumult 
Where seven and twenty thousand men 
Do not respond to call again. 
With cannon ammunition spent, 
With Meade's position still unbent, 
With victory followed by defeat 
Nought could remain but to retreat. 

No other counsel could them guide 
But leave the ground where they abide, 
And turn their face toward the South 
Away from Northern cannon's mouth. 
And back to lands of swamp and pine 
Where thickets thrive and rivers twine; 
Where Nature's hand could still caress 
A wounded lion in distress. 

The task assigned to Meade was done 

He stopped Lee's march on Washington 

And Victor's Goddess seldom shed 

More glory on Commander's head. 

And General Meade may have known when 

A wounded lion in his den 

Is better missed than sought until 

He leaves his lair by his free will. 

The Union soldiers fain would leap 
Beyond the fallen hero's heap. 
The faltering foe to press about 
And to defeat to add a rout; 
To close the mountain pass w^ould go 
And trap the remnants of the foe. 
But victory gained is best secure 
And impulse ruled by caution pure. 

—18— 



To Meade no information went 
That Lee's munitions had been spent. 
His men were worn and slumber bound. 
Beyond disturbing cannons' sound; 
And doleful tasks remained ahead, 
To care for w^ounded and the dead; 
But Victor's army still would lend 
Impartial aid to foe and friend. 

Let monuments forever stand 
Where Meade supremely did command 
The men who life blood freely gave 
Our Nation's sovereign life to save; 
Where Union men have driven forth 
The foes that pierced the sovereign North, 
And bid those Southern army trains 
Retreat without their slaves and chains. 



Perchance, pursuit to help prevent 
The Heavens were by the thunders rent 
And lightning flashed from the sky, 
The Gods of War to help defy. 
The sun, as though ashamed to shed 
The light of day upon the dead, 
Within the clouds withheld his rays, 
To wait the dawn of happier days. 

The stains of blood to fain erase, 

From troubled Earth's distorted face, 

And cleanse the battle field again 

The heavens poured forth a drenching rain. 

So Nature deigned to shed her tear, 

As Mother weeps by infant's bier. 

And darkest clouds would hover low^ 

As if to hide the mortal woe. 



-19- 



Oh, Gettysburgh! upon your verdant hills 

No more the piercing war-cry thrills 

The lagging trooper of the day, 

Or wakes the weary dreamer for the fray. 

Pray, let no hostile sound distress 

The final slumber of the blessed; 

Marked by the stone above the head 

Of many known and unknown dead. 



A SON'S LAMENTATION. 



How rich w^as the blessing in life's early morn- 
ing. 
When fiction endangered the teachings of 

truth. 
To observe through the haze all the signals of 

warning. 
By the hand of the parents that guided my 

youth. 
How light were life's burdens, though often 

recoiling 
From the weight of the juvenile duties and 

cares. 
When we heard the sv/eet voice of the fond 

parents calling 

The faltering youths to assemble for prayers. 

But the joys of today, and the pains of to- 
morrow. 
Proud Nature in unbroken ration will keep; 



-20— 



So the height of my joy marked the depth 
of my sorrow. 

When its withering judgment compelled me to 
weep. 

For the hands that caressed me were borne 
away yonder 

And mortals no more can their presence re- 
place ; 

Now alone and unguided for ever I wander 

Through darkness and sorrow no pleasure to 
trace. 

How often at night by strange slumber's transi- 
tion, 
When reason no more guides the vision of men, 
I can see by my side, that long lost condition 
The fond hand of my parents extended again. 
And quickly I start for the bright apparition 
But in vain all about me I grope in the dark, 
Until fancy recalls that cold Nature's partition 
From the hand of the parents that guided my 
bark. 

Oh! the anguish of soul, when the dreamer out- 
crying 

To greet the fond voice of his loved ones' re- 
turn, 

Hears the wild wind of winter's deep merci- 
less sighing 

The only response for the voice from the urn. 

And the darkness adds doubt to the bitter 
repining, 

—21— 



As the late cherished hopes to despair quickly 

fall, 
When we know that the morn, with the sun 

brightly shining 
Can bring no response to the son's loving call. 

And so now I am waiting the hand's reappear- 
ing 

To waft the last signal to bid me arise. 

From the horrors of life, and its doubting and 
fearing 

To homes of immortals through transparent 
skies; 

And a merciful faith may be ever abiding. 

When nears my approach to the shore that's 
unknown 

That the voices long hushed will again be con- 
fiding 

And the hand of my parents will welcome me 
home. 



THE COTTAGE BY THE ROADSIDE. 



There's a cottage by the roadside, that I ever 

reverence more 
As years of joy and sorrow come and go; 
It was erected by my Father near the corner 

of his farm 
To shield and give protection to the loved ones 

long ago. 

There's a stillness in the orchard, where we 

used to sit and swing 
There is silence in the garden and the hall; 
There's no music in the parlor where we used 

to play and sing. 
There's no answer to the sparrow's morning 

call. 

i 
There the sturdy oak and maple, with their 

branches bending low 
Still are standing near the western window 

pane; 
And the wind that sways the treetops seem to 

murmur as they go 
"They will never all assemble here again." 

They may say it is not modern, nor artistic in 

design. 
But around its saintly portals all my childish 

thoughts entwine; 
There's no mansion in creation that can give 

me back the joy 
That the cottage by the roadside gave its little 

bare-foot boy. 



-23- 



A POET'S FIGURE. 



Upon the canvas picture painted 
Many colors may unite, 
But poet's colors, less acquainted. 
Are limited to black and white. 

Around the sculptor's silent token 
Lines of grace and beauty link, 
But poet's lines, so often broken, 
Are only traced by pen and ink. 

Metallic chords, with pleasure blending 
Aid the vocalist's noble art; 
But poet's humble chords ascending. 
Vibrate only from his heart. 

Grace in colors form and music, 
Gladly would the poet reach. 
But he, alas, can excel only 
By the figure of his speech. 



FOGAN'S FALL. 



They say that Fogan fell in church — 
No troubled conscience caused the lurch 
Because his conscience long had been 
Pollutely dipped and died in sin. 
How could his hand release its hold 
Upon the tray of paltry gold? 
The real reason may have been 
That no commission rewarded him. 

The saintly preacher may have read 
The simple words the Savior said 
That Fogan must, like camels try 
The passage of the needle's eye. 
Or he may have recalled the thought 
That when life's battles have been fought 
And he must view the distant shore 
They can't transport his money o'er. 

The strain must bear upon the man, 
Who all along life's journey ran 
Upon the track get-all-you-can 
From God, the devil or mortal man; 
To reap the sheaves of golden grain 
For God alone and not retain 
TTie major part that might be given 
To help him corner grace in Heaven. 



—25— 



NATURAL LAWS. 



No selfish motive doth my lines inspire 

Or mark the simple accent of my lyre; 

But if the poet's ever ready pen 

In aught may aid his fellow countrymen 

Our Nation's life and Sovereignty maintain 

From powers that dwell beyond the briny main 

The only recompense that he, at last may claim, 

Is that his efforts were not made in vain. 

There is a course by nature cast 
That yields no place to time or task 
Unmoved by love or kindly grace 
Commanding all the earthly race. 

If you would turn for instincts light 
To view the fowls upon their flight 
You see the sparrow guardians beat 
The mighty hawk to quick retreat. 

And in the lower realms of life; 
The will that moves the ant to strife 
Or guides the bee upon the green, 
This law of nature may be seen. 

The instinct of the beast we see 
In jungles where he wanders free. 
As roams the beast from haunt to lair 
This law of Nature lingers there. 

The impulse that directs the worm 
May guide the heart of man in turn 
For in the heart of man and beast 
We find one common trait at least. 
—36— 



And yet will kings and others choose 
Their knowledge of this law to lose, 
Or think their own proud judgment can 
Completely alter Nature's plan. 

For truly Nature seems to place 
The lion's heart in men of grace 
What cunning cruel, deadly skill. 
Have despots that the palace fill! 

And when I see the lion's heart 
Incased in man's own counterpart 
Forsooth I hear the lion's roar 
Above the prayers the Monarchs pour. 

Perchance the truth may be confessed — 
A vacuum where the brain should rest; 
Or victim of the deadly curse — 
Whose heart is bound within his purse. 

His mind, his heart, his all intent 
Is on the Island Empire bent; 
While sending forth a reverend guest 
He seeks our liberty to test. 

The lowest form of life we find 
In reptile, man or beast combined. 
Most loathsome and repulsive all 
May well be known as cannibal. 

And yet a lower form I see 
In Monarchs that I mention three. 
Who seek the power, by stealth or theft 
To starve the innocent to death. 

Will kings and monarchs always fail 
To hear the weak and lowly wail. 
While they conspire by treaty bold 
The bread of all the world to hold? 



—27— 



Oh, triple vultures born and bred 
Upon the flesh of human dead. 
For while the love of God proclaim 
The world starvation is their aim. 



What spirit from on High that fell 
Could wander forth through realms of hell 
With fiendish heart and tongue of flame 
More misery for the Earth to claim? 

What warder of the Heavenly host, 
From dreaded vial they feareth most 
Because of carnal hearted kings 
To Earth distruction and disaster brings. 

Talk not to me of mystic charm 
To bid the Lion's power disarm, 
When Nature has the truth confessed, 
Tliat strong are by the weak confessed. . 

And when the Gods of Gold replace 
The Heavenly Kingdom's pow^er and grace 
The Monarchs will by force resign 
Their Kingdom's all to Father Time. 

Well may the wisdom of their light 
Supply the cause of wrongs to right 
And wonder if their foreign greed 
Will dominate our Southern need. 

Well may we wonder if designs 
That prompted war in former times 
Now seek their object to attain 
By League of Nations crafty frame. 

—28— 



The founders of our Nation fought 
For freedom's cause, as freemen ought; 
From Lexington to Lake Champlain 
Poured forth their blood from every vem. 

And by those stains of blood and strife 
That marked our Nation's early life 
No man, from Heaven to hell may dare 
Our Constitutional rights impair. 

And damn that brand of patriot 
Whose brain by filthy lucre rot 
Gives motion to his tongue's pollution 
"Hide behind the constitution." 

The constitution of our Nation 

Is the best in all the world 

And was written by real patriots of our land. 

We will hold it ever sacred 

With our banner still unfurled 

And Washington's fair warning in command. 



—29— 



IF LONDON RULED THE SUN, 



When I'm from care and labor free 
My thoughts at random run; 
I wonder what the w^orld would be 
If London ruled the sun. 

What think you the Hindoo w^ould do 
If London ruled the sun; 
And what could poor old Erin do, 
If London ruled the sun? 

The people of the sunny South, 
Might think it lots of fun 
To watch the corn and cotton grow 
If London ruled the sun. 

The new moon light might shine all night 

If London ruled the sun; 

The milkyway might last all day 

If London ruled the sun. 

The polar bear might lose his hair 
If London ruled the sun, 
And the kangaroo might melt in two 
If London ruled the sun. 



